


Knights and Dames

by Merfilly



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-04-06
Packaged: 2018-01-15 14:07:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1307602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merfilly/pseuds/Merfilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where Black Canary, the original, didn't move to the west coast, a new generation of Gotham grows up with each other to lean on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Published in serial format over the course of at least four stories. Relies on a lot of Silver Age history tweaked to my own use, and meshed toward a Justice League Year One.

It was a simple, routine pursuit. The rooftops were an open highway to him, with the new grappling line he had worked out. He had the thugs in sight, a sure lead back to the capo he had been detailing. If he could wrap this one up, prove to the assistant D.A. he had been working with that he could deliver... 

The thought flashed through his mind that he should have seen the ice. It also gave him several ideas for improving the boots on his suit. Of course, neither one helped him now as he hit the street two stories below, barely protecting himself from injury. His pride, though, might very well not recover quickly from the fact he fell barely ten feet from a young brunette in a black motorcycle suit, perched casually with one foot on the street, the other on the foot pedal of the intimidatingly large Harley. 

"Nice fall," she said, a smile chasing itself across her lips. 

"I needed to be down here," he heard himself say, even as he tried to hear or spot the two thugs. 

"Chasing Boss Capini's men?" she asked him. "You're either damn brave or as foolish as that giant target on your chest." 

He could not help the startled blink her way. "I have my reasons for it." 

"If you want to catch up to those two, get on." She then flashed him a too-young, too-bright smile. "Name's Black Canary... or will be." 

An eyebrow rose and he cocked his head, even as he got on the bike behind her. "She's a blonde... just saw her in the news a few weeks ago." 

"Yeah... but it will be me soon. You'll see." He then couldn't have heard a word over the rush of the wind without mics and earpieces, as she tore off after the thugs. Despite himself, he latched onto her waist at the wild way she handled the over-sized bike. He was very unsure about trusting an untrained wanna-be vigilante who had delusions to follow in the footsteps of such a great woman like the JSA's own Black Canary. 

An hour later, he was choking on those impressions, as the girl proceeded to move through an almost textbook police take down of the two thugs, leaving them to his care and vanishing. Something told him he would be sharing his city with that feisty determination for a long time.

* * *

The rest of the the winter and most of the spring passed quietly enough for Bruce Wayne. He was a highly eligible bachelor, coming fully into the guardianship of the largest Gotham based corporation and all of its peripheral activities. He dated, he flirted, and he carefully built a dual layered persona. Coming to be known as an absolute socialite at the galas might have grated his nerves, but the pleasure of being a corporate shark with a sharp wit made up for it.

And then there was the nightly pursuit of Justice.

He made modifications to his suit, to his gear, nearly every week. Dealing with the mafia on one hand, and a growing element of the lunatic fringe on the other was more exhilarating than he dared admit to himself. Alfred had noted the flushed manner in which he returned home most mornings, and pursed his lips. It was, the dignified butler had bemoaned, too much to hope some woman could ever bring about the same enthusiasm.

Bruce just smiled with a hint of a secret dancing in his eyes.

That brief assistance from the girl, and he was convinced that was just what she was, had been the beginning of making allies in his city, the kind that ran the same shadowy routes he did. Granted, he had Harvey in the legal arena, and there was that one cop, Gordon, who assisted him, but the pride he felt in pursuing a case by his methods could only be appreciated by the ones who walked the same hidden path.

The young Black Canary did live up to her promise, late that first summer, making a dazzling debut against the Huntress, daughter of an old foe of the senior Black Canary. After so many months of watching her run under the radar, Bruce had to admit the girl knew by instinct nearly as much as he did by training.

Her namesake did not seem pleased in the least, as Bruce learned the very next night, when he had arrived to assist Black Canary with a bust against Boss Capini. He had found the fight satisfying in its quick conclusion, with few injuries on either side, and had turned to vanish in the shadows after the cops had taken care of the details when the senior Black Canary intruded.

"Dinah Laurel..."

"Mother, not here," the younger woman hissed, eyes glancing to her oft-times ally as identity secrets spilled.

"I expressly forbid you to..."

"To be who I am, mother," Dinah snapped. "Daddy didn't. Daddy wouldn't let you try to railroad me either."

"Don't you dare throw him in my face!" 

"Then face up to the fact I am **his** daughter as much as I am yours, and I'm going to do just what I want, no matter what you say!"

The elder woman drew in a breath to speak, only to have it robbed by the arrival of a very distinctive green glow. Bruce had withdrawn to the shadows, but not left, in hopes of learning more about the girl, about Gotham's own JSA heroine, and to lend his weight if it came to it.

He found himself staring at the Green Lantern, resplendent in his red, green, and purple costume that still managed to lend innate dignity to him.

"Dinah. Junior." The elder statesman looked for just a moment right where Bruce was, before focusing on the woman and her daughter, both of who had quit glaring at one another to turn to Green Lantern.

"Lantern..." The matronly woman looked at her long time friend and teammate.

"No. Wildcat called this to my attention, and I have to agree with him. Junior is cut to this mold, no matter what we might have wished for our children. Retire gracefully, and take pride in who she is."

The girl shot a look at her mother, only to have Green Lantern clear his throat.

"Junior...we're expecting you to be a good example." Again his eyes flicked to the hidden vigilante. "Take what you learned, and show the new ones."

"Yes, Uncle...Lantern." She smiled impishly at him, then moved to hug her mother. "I can't not do this, momma."

The older woman shook her head, before she smiled sadly. "Just be more careful than Larry was. You are too much like him." She moved to Lantern's side, and the green energy swept her up, before both JSA members vanished.

"No wonder you were sure you would be Black Canary. Explains so much of your skill," Bruce rumbled. The young hero looked at him as he melted from the shadows once more. 

"It's always been my legacy to meet," she told him.

"Legacies are important." He thought of the ones he had, that of a man and a woman patently dedicated to saving people and making better lives for them. "We all have to aspire to live up to them, and to leave ones worth following."

Black Canary met his eyes, seeing more than just an ally in that moment, finding a friend. She just nodded mutely, before they went their separate ways.

* * *

Batman looked at the angry lines wrapped all the way from the glove to the elbow on his friend's arm with a raised eyebrow behind the cowl.

"Whip burn?" he asked her.

"Yes," Black Canary sulked at him. "There's this new girl in East End..."

"Thief. Cat-burglar, with an insanely pathological need to take that euphemism to the extreme?" Batman queried, getting a touch of a smile from her.

"One and the same. Ran into her last night, heading off her heist of that museum show going on right now." She kept her ears and eyes out, waiting for the sounds of the city coming to dubious life after dark.

"Three nights ago, she was attempting to lift items from a private collection on my patrol route. He pushed his cape back from his side, showing her deft stitches to close four rends in his shirt. "I don't recommend close contact."

They looked at each other, and their smiles dawned almost in unison, before she laughed throatily, and he chuckled.

"We'll figure her out," Black Canary told him, before rising to drop off the low roof. "See you around, big guy."

"I know you will," he replied.

* * *

Figuring out cyphers was easier than puzzling out the thief calling herself Catwoman. If Bruce had to guess, which he was doing more and more of as he kept crossing her path over the end of summer, he'd estimate her age very close to Black Canary's. That made her still in her teens, from the profile he had built on Dinah Lance.

The very fact she continually made narrow escapes from him kept his mind on the challenge she presented. Alfred had snorted aloud at Bruce's musings on the reasons behind that luck.

"Luck, Master Bruce, has nothing to do with the fact that she is neither violently disposed nor without considerable charm, considering your preoccupation with her."

Bruce looked in offended dignity at the latest four stripe cuts healing on his arm.

"That is strictly self-defense." Alfred inclined his head at the scratches. "Perhaps, Master Bruce, a bit of time 'tailing' her, rather than abortive apprehensions might give you more insight into the femme fatale of your life."

* * *

By the week's end, Bruce had far more food for thought than he would have believed off a simple cat burglar with a fetish/fantasy.

She stole...to take care of herself and a young girl she had taken in. There did not seem to be heavy family entanglements, outside of a sister.

There wasn't a cat in the East End that went hungry. Rapes in the area, as well as muggings, had fallen off since the first rumored sightings.

He might disapprove the methods, but she was effective.

And she had already corrupted him, as he let her rob a capo without even a thought of pursuit.

He worried about that, and took it home to stew on, as he considered whether he even had the right to judge other people's methods of saving Gotham. Black Canary used one way, he had another, and neither of them quite followed in the footsteps of the illustrious JSA in their ways.

He'd wait and see if there was room for the Catwoman in Gotham.

* * *

The house was as still as a grave where the woman waited. This wasn't usually her style, lying in wait of the action. She preferred a far more direct approach, but the latest situation required her to be more patient. She could do this, just stay still and quiet and wait for just the right moment.

The faintest 'clink', and her eyes shot up, toward the dimly lit skylight, and saw that her waiting was almost at an end. She coiled herself, strong legs ready, watching the descent of the prey she had come for.

* * *

Selina Kyle had not had a good life, but she had discovered ways to make it better. She had promised herself that Holly would have a better life, that Maggie would never come to any harm, so long as she breathed. If, in pursuit of that, she broke a few laws, she reconciled it in her heart as giving to the needy, a modern day Robin Hood of sorts.

The smile that thought brought to her lips each and every time always made Holly light up and laugh. Anything that could erase the teen's memory of the streets was a good thing in Selina's books.

It wasn't like she dressed up like that goof with the bow out in Star City. If she was going to be a thief, she'd do it with true style.

* * *

As the purple-clad burglar dangled just above the case holding the statue of Bast, the coiled woman in the shadows leaped. As she had suspected, her weight plus the thief's was enough to dislodge the ripcord the thief had descended on, causing the two women to roll in a clench on the floor. 

Black Canary had gotten her arms fully around both of Catwoman's, but the thief had enough ability to flex her wrists to slice at the vigilante's hip. The sharp nails tore clean through fishnet stockings and flesh, making Canary bite back curses learned in the back of her uncle's gym.

"Wasn't you I was looking to find me tonight," the thief purred, taking advantage of the stinging attack to twist and break free. Black Canary was up and on her feet the second behind her, giving fast pursuit.

"Don't care, Catwoman. This trail of robberies ends tonight!" Black Canary informed her prey, waiting until the woman broke free of the house to let a quick, short Cry break the ground under the woman's fleeing feet. The thief fell, her ears ringing from the reverberations of the Cry off the buildings, and her ankle twisted from the fall.

Catwoman felt her wrists get caught in hands that were strong from years of Judo and boxing, as she struggled to get her legs back under her and her head clear.

"You wouldn't let a lady get locked up in the drunk tank, would you?" Catwoman asked, playing the 'poor-pitiful-me' card in hopes of setting this young hero off balance enough to get away again.

"Oh I won't. I'm good friends with the boys in blue," Black Canary promised her. "And Catwoman?" she added as the cuffs she used closed tight on the culprit's wrists.

The thief looked at her expectantly.

"Stop distracting the Bat. He's trying to keep this city fit to live in."

* * *

"But Uncle Jim...." 

"Don't you uncle me, Dinah... that hasn't worked since you were six and I figured out you were your father's child through and through!"

The raven-haired teen looked at the older man with a decided pout, but that wasn't getting her anywhere either.

"Look, Dinah, we've been over this several times, ever since before your father passed away." James Gordon hated politics at times, but he had to bend to these. "The Academy has a no meta policy in place. It dates back to the rise of the JSA, I know, but it is there and has reasons."

"Outdated ones."

"Possibly." He looked at the young woman with a scrutinizing eye. "Be content with your other job." It was the closest he had come to honestly acknowledging her role as Black Canary, but any listener would have assumed he meant the flower shop.

"Yes sir," Dinah said with a quiet note in her voice. She did, however, get up to hug Jim on his way out. "Say hi to Babs."

"I will." He then sighed softly. "Did you hear? That new costumed burglar escaped."

Dinah very carefully didn't let it show that this tidbit was actually a tip-off. "Oh, that's so bad to hear. I hope the boys catch her soon."

"We'll see." With that, Jim left for the office, trying very hard not to debate the finer points of skirting the vigilante line. At least there were plenty of citizen arrest laws on the books to use, to defend the girl if she did ever get caught.

* * *

"You're pouting."

Black Canary looked up in surprise. She'd been half-convinced that Batman never really noted her moods unless she got obnoxious about it.

"Still miffed I couldn't do something I wanted," she admitted.

"Tell me? This stakeout is worse than the one over on Barretto last week." Batman was quite able to endure these in quiet, but when Black Canary was there...he had discovered he didn't like for her to be quiet.

"Well...you know who I am. Which means, knowing your anal tendencies..."

"I'm thorough," he defended.

"Anal." She grinned at him over it. "You know who my dad was." Batman nodded. "I wanted to be like my mom, but I wanted to be like him too. And I can't."

"A police officer? Why not?"

"Gotham Police Academy bars meta abilities from entering, as they do not think we are safe citizens to begin with." Black Canary sighed loudly. "They hand the dork wearing his underwear on the outside of his tights keys to cities over the world, but my little trick keeps me from pursuing the lawful course."

Batman had to stifle a laugh at her description of Metropolis's do-gooder. "But you still bring in the bad guys."

"Not the ones who wear blue."

At those grim words, Batman looked at his oft-times partner with new appreciation. He had already decided she was dedicated to making Gotham better, but to know she saw what he did, that the GCPD was rife with corruption, made his mission a little more achievable.

"We'll find a way."

* * *

The factory was not on the Black Canary's usual patrol route. Batman had asked her to cover his six, though, as he had been unable to determine more information about what waited inside for them beyond the anonymous criminal calling himself Red Hood.

The little vigilante would much rather be facing a mafia hunting party, but she was not going to let Batman down. Not when he had actually asked her for help. The debacle with that clay-creature earlier in the year must have made an impression on Batman.

Or she had.

That thought got squelched down deep. She was a professional. Professionals did not think about their partners and teammates as anything but professional comrades.

No matter what else crossed through the back of her mind. She scolded herself fiercely, concentrating harder on navigating the ductwork into the factory. After all, it just would not do to lust after the bat the same way she had mooned over Bruce Wayne growing up.

* * *

He was no one. Every crime, big and small, had failed to make him into someone the Families could not afford to ignore.

He'd show them.

He was going to take on the Flying Rodent. Exterminate the Bat problem, once and for all. After that, they'd notice him. They'd fear the Red Hood, and bow down to him.

The thought put a huge smile on his face.

* * *

Batman had no idea just how it all got away from him so fast. He had come in through the upper grillwork over a sky light. Black Canary had remained hidden, poised to join him just as they planned.

Red Hood had hired allies, though.

When they swarmed him, he thought he could handle it. He had fought, his kicks and punches timed for maximum effectiveness. The thugs and ex-mooks weren't trained to handle a man that had mastered multiple disciplines of fighters.

It was slowing him down. Red Hood saw that he was getting the upper hand, and, with cowardly disgrace, started to withdraw. That had brought the hidden vigilante out, taking off after him with a mind to finally catching the anonymous criminal.

Batman saw the wires on the walkway as he threw off the last of the thugs. He could never reach his partner in time to get her out of the blast, even as he shot his grapple up in a futile attempt to do so.

When an eerie laugh began to echo inside that helmet, the Red Hood's body shaking with the effort of it, Batman felt sheer rage for just a moment, before the blast caught them all.

* * *

Black Canary slowly opened her eyes, aware that every nerve seemed to be on fire.

"Easy, Dinah Laurel," came a warm, almost familiar voice. It slowly pieced into place; Leslie Thompkins, the woman who had tried to save her father's life after the battle with Aquarius.

"How..."

"A young woman I deal with pulled you and _him_ free." The doctor kept one hand on Dinah's shoulder, refusing to let her up. "I haven't called your mother yet, as I did not want to worry her too much until I could tell her something solid."

"Thank you." Dinah stopped trying to get up, but the fact that a woman, not the Bat had...

"He's fine. Already gone from here." It was said with just a hint of disapproval, and personal knowledge.

"Red Hood...we were after..."

"There was no sign of him. Br...Batman inquired."

Dinah sighed; it had all been a waste, and all because she hadn't been more alert.

* * *

Batman brooded on the rooftop, not ten feet from the woman who had saved the night.

"I saw him fall into the vats. I don't think he realized the platform he was on would rock that hard," she said.

"I didn't want anyone to die," he replied.

"I couldn't have saved him, and she was worth the effort," the woman said impatiently.

He turned and looked at her. "It wasn't so hard, was it? To help, instead of just taking what you want?"

"Don't count on me playing in your little crusade too often, Batsy," Catwoman purred. "And I still have scores to even with her, but Red Hood was becoming a menace."

"It could be good, with you on our side."

"My dear Batman, this Cat walks by Herself." She swung her whip out, and was gone into the night.

* * *

"Have you chosen an escort to the charity event, Master Bruce?" Alfred's dry tones intruded on Bruce's concentration as he looked over the reports Lucius had prepared. Taking Lucius Fox on to manage the business had made his life easier on one level, but he was determined not to let his heritage slip away from his control, either.

"What event is that, Alfred?"

"The one at the circus. In two nights."

Bruce winced. "It slipped my mind," he admitted.

Alfred did not make a disapproving noise, but the feeling communicated itself anyway. "It is a premier event. Even Bruce Wayne might have difficulty persuading a socialite at this late date."

The Prince of Gotham briefly peered out of those blue eyes, and that did get a mild 'tisking', making Bruce smile half-heartedly. "I'd be lost without you, Alfred."

"Indubitably."

* * *

Dinah shook her head at her friend, raising the hand that was still in a splint from their recent encounter with Falcone's men. "Sorry, Bruce. The wrong thug or mook see me like this, as Dinah Lance, instead of Black Canary, and my identity is blown. The wig only goes so far."

Bruce sighed. One good thing of taking Dinah into his confidence on his own identity the past winter had been that if he could not get a high society lady for a date, she played up the part of the mystery girl from the wrong level of society.

"Bruce Wayne cannot be at this event solitaire," he said, eyeing the hand to see if she had to have the splint. She laughed, forcing his eyes up to her face. 

"When you talk about yourself in third person, I worry about your sanity. And yes, I need the splint. Marco's jaw was made of bricks, I swear!"

"You're right, Dinah." He shook his head. "Maybe I'll write a huge check and have a mysterious business trip."

"Oh, I'm sure you can figure something else out," she reassured him. "Now go on, before the tabloids show up to find out why your car's parked at my shop for too long."

That made him chuckle, as he left her to her day job to consider who might be eligible for a phone call from him.

* * *

"What about Miss Kyle?"

At that calm suggestion from his most trusted confidante, Bruce's eyes almost popped out of his head. "Alfred, she..."

"...has been most insistent on gaining _your_ attention. Who knows, Master Bruce? Perhaps it is just the thing to dissuade her _other_ activities." The butler continued to dust the mantle in the office, waiting for the invariable response.

"I won't abuse her infatuation just to stop that," Bruce told him in a low tone.

"Where is the harm, Master Bruce, in meeting her just once as the man she is pursuing, and trying to turn that infatuation to friendship?" Alfred eyed his ward carefully. "I am most tired of stitching four parallel cuts on a weekly basis."

"It's not weekly," Bruce protested before giving serious thought to the matter.

* * *

He knew they cut a fabulous image for the press. She was almost half a foot shorter, they both had the jet black hair that rippled with blue highlights in certain lighting, and she had the art of draping on his arm just perfect.

His nerves were on edge as he escorted her toward the Big Top of Haly's Circus for the Charity Gala of the week.

She had no idea who he was, that her claws had ripped through his skin more nights than he cared to admit. She saw him as a mark, a wealthy man to take her out, get close to, maybe sleep with...and then rob him blind.

He laughed and smiled just when she expected it, had all the witty remarks for the other upper crust who deigned to speak to the errant playboy and his latest pretty plaything.

It did nothing to soothe his nerves, that he, Bruce Wayne, was out on a date with Selina Kyle, the freshly invented social face of Gotham's most notorious thief.

* * *

John looked down at his pride and joy with flashing smiles and warm eyes, while Mary knelt next to their son and adjusted his performance costume. 

"You will do fine, my son. It is in your blood, to go out there, wow the audience, make them want more so they come back when the fancy party is not here." She petted over his hair to smooth it. "Rich or poor, we entertain." She had seen the unease in her son's shoulders, and that was the only difference tonight, that the wealthy ones had come for the show. Her son had flown almost before he could walk, after all.

Dick blinked, then grinned. "Yes, mama. I will fly!" It was easy to put aside the thought of the angry man threatening Pop Haly earlier. They were carnies, they took care of their own. Nothing could get in their way.

John laughed vibrantly. "So you will, little bird!"

The family moved out to start their routine, with their bold young son leading the way.

* * *

Bruce knew he had reacted a shade faster than his so-called peers. His ear had caught the sound of snapping cable, his eye saw the bar supporting the weight shift. He had his arm up and shielding Selina's eyes from the sight almost before his thinking mind had processed the accident was in progress.

His detective's gaze let him view the sight of death with a detachment...until he looked up at the opposite platform. The boy there, staring down at the broken bodies in a spreading stain of red, drew at his heart. 

"Selina, are you alright?" he remembered to ask, feeling her shake against his body, her face hidden in his chest.

"I...oh Bruce." She looked up too, and he saw the compassion that had made her save the young hooker, Holly, falling on the child that had just been orphaned so cruelly. 

It made Bruce question his own reactions and prejudices in regards to her motives.

"What will happen to the boy?" he asked, more emotion in his voice than he should have shown.

"Unfortunately, Bruce, if he has no other family, he will fall into the system. At his age..." Selina shuddered. "Poor dear."

It made the playboy step back, considering the foggy memories of his own past, the visit of state childcare workers, the necessity of so many papers being signed by Leslie and Alfred. If the boy had no one...

He noted one of the clowns climbing up to help the boy come down, and made himself a promise, to make a difference in that child's life rather than let tragedy pile up on his shoulders.

* * *

Black Canary finished securing the last of Falcone's men. She was getting thoroughly sick of this warfare between Falcone and the ADA. Dent was a good man, seemed to have Batman's and Jim Gordon's respect. Black Canary tended to avoid the meetings with him; something in the way he often looked at her had set her teeth on edge, but she was not the judge of character her friend was.

Her mind drifted over the recent loss of support from the Bat in her nightly routines. She knew he was busy, had been ever since the murders at the circus. The Bat was investigating the case based off the surviving child's statement that some guy had been threatening the owner earlier that same night. His preliminary investigation had shown deliberate sabotage to the trapeze bars. A child's weight had been safe, as had a single adult's. But add that second one...

She shuddered again, hating that the Gotham Gazette had not been a little more circumspect in the photos they had used for their cover story. If it bothered her so much, she could only imagine how it had hit the little boy involved.

Which was the other half of missing the Bat's presence. Bruce Wayne was in the process of acquiring the child, to give him a home and the support he needed to get past his tragedy. If anyone could, it should be the orphan of the Wayne murders. Black Canary just wondered how well the boy would adapt to having a vigilante for a guardian, because she knew this was a secret that would never keep.

* * *

Dick Grayson blinked and rubbed at his eyes as he stared at the huge, sprawling manor and its well-kept lawns. The car of the social worker seemed to be a tiny speck on the immense driveway up to the house. As they approached, the door opened and a pair of men stepped out, both awaiting the car with varying shades of patience. 

"I'm really going to stay here?" he asked the case worker one more time.

"Mister Wayne was most insistent, and he is a very upstanding citizen. You will be fine in his care," the woman assured him.

As the car stopped, Dick slid out on the side where the older man opened the door for him. He stared up at the kindly face, then looked at the younger man, who did not seem quite as approachable.

Then Mister Wayne smiled, introducing himself and Alfred, before Alfred set his hand on Dick's shoulder. 

"Master Richard, do come in and learn your new home."

Dick looked back at the older man, sensing that while it might belong to Bruce Wayne, this house fell completely under Alfred's jurisdiction.

"Call me Dick, please, sir?"

Alfred smiled. "Master Dick, then."

Bruce followed them in, carrying Dick's few belongings, having already signed all the papers. For better or worse, he was now the guardian of one orphaned acrobat.

* * *

Bruce Wayne swallowed hard as he walked into the recovery room at the hospital. Doubts had assailed him from the moment the news had reached him. If he hadn't been so busy with Dick, getting him settled in...He pushed that savagely aside. In just a few days, the boy had taken on a deep significance in his daily life at the manor.

It did not change that Harvey had been attacked, double-crossed by 'Boss' Maroni. The doubts Batman had begun to have about the zealous lawyer had intensified while he studied the machinations between Falcone and Maroni, as Dent's pursuit of justice was edged, hard, with bitterness and a vindictive spirit.

Seeing him on the hospital bed made those doubts war with themselves. If Maroni suspected Dent of being the Killer, the double cross in such a public venue made sense. Or maybe the attack had just been an opportunistic one, as Dent grew to be more formidable in the courts. With the triumvirate of Dent, Gordon, and Batman working so well, the mafia was feeling the pinch.

All of those thoughts stayed behind his mask, as he showed the concern of a friend, wealthy playboy come to check on a man that was influential in their society. He could only hope his friend came through it without too many scars on his psyche.

* * *

Dick noted the quiet, somber air around his new guardian as the man returned. He had spent a good bit of the day with Alfred, exploring more of the manor as the older man cleaned various rooms. He liked it here, enjoyed the freedom he was given, the friendly rapport he felt with Alfred, even if the nights still left him gasping and reaching for comfort that no longer existed.

He wanted to do something, to show his gratitude to the man who had done this, even if he did not understand why. Maybe he was just a tax write off, or a publicity stunt. Alfred didn't seem to think so, from the way he acted, but it was so hard to glimpse anything of what Bruce Wayne thought.

Seeing the solemnity, the worry, made Dick throw caution to the wind and rush to the man, arms wrapping around his waist in an unfettered expression of comfort. After the barest moment of surprise, Bruce dropped to a knee, drew Dick close, and returned the hug with full intensity.

That night, when the house was at its most still and quiet point, and Dick's tears were soaking his pillow, Bruce slipped in, and held the boy while grief broke through the careful shields of a lost orphan.

* * *

It was Black Canary who got to the scene of the hospital, who overheard as the escape of the District Attorney was discussed. She watched the worried set of the Commissioner's shoulders, weighed the accounts of the nurses and doctors who had witnessed the psychotic episode that had led to the escape.

She had a bad feeling in her gut that life in Gotham had just escalated to new levels of danger for them all. Maybe, for once, her friend had failed to see something they all should have been concerned about in Dent.

* * *

He had one thing with him from that day.

The double-headed coin. The good-luck charm that had linked Maroni to the case in question. That had been the center of the excuse to get Maroni to trial, so Maroni could turn evidence against Falcone.

Except Maroni had changed the plans.

The disfigured man scratched at the coin, over one head, with the knife he'd found down here in the sewers. It slowly showed the effects of the scratching, an 'x' appearing just on that one side. It's new owner made a grimace on the undamaged side of his face, not sure why the 'x' had to be there.

"What is it for?" he questioned over the trickle of the city's filth.

"That's so we know when to do them in," a harsher voice answered, before his hand began to flip the coin. With a harsh bark of laughter, the man who had firm ideas of right, wrong, and how to make the world do them both, walked away to find new surroundings, before the meddlesome Bat tracked them down.

* * *

"How is the boy?"

Bruce considered that, as Selina floated back into his arms. She was more than worth the effort of keeping Bruce and the Bat separate, an opinion cemented now after several dates. Dinah was even teasing him that maybe all the rogues would respond to such gallant courting. He'd countered that by giving her the image of her asking the Riddler out on a date. He was more than willing to call her indignant outrage a victory on his side of their friendly battle.

"He's showing improvement. We're debating the likelihood of his being ready to attend school at the end of the summer."

"That's not far from now, Bruce." Selina followed his lead, loving the way he moved, his sure foot, his firm grip. More than a match for fantasies of the damnable Bat in her night's wanderings.

"I know. He's come a long way." Only nine weeks since the murders, for Dick. That was not much time to adjust to being orphaned, but too much time for the case to still be unsolved. "He's even asked to go see the circus when it returns next week."

Selina looked concerned at that. "Don't you think that would be very traumatic?"

"They're his family, Selina. He wants to see them. I'll take him, and stay very close." Bruce had taken a year to face the scene of his parents' deaths. He was unsure about this planned venture as well, but Dick had wheedled at him over several nights.

"As you wish it, Bruce."

* * *

Taking the boy back to the circus, when those deaths were still unsolved was the most idiotic maneuver she had ever heard from the playboy. Selina reclined on her couch, studying the billet for the coming event, and made plans to be there on whatever night Bruce took the child. 

At least, one of her guises would be there. She reached back and pulled her whip from its hiding place, inspecting it. The cats that chased the tip to her got smiled at.

"Not taking any chances with the bright little bird, my precious ones. We'd be very remiss if we let the boy fall like his parents."

* * *

Black Canary flinched as Alfred carefully tended the bruises from Grundy's grip. "B, I'm telling you this League idea's not too bad."

"Then you do it, Dinah. You work better in the spotlight." He looked over at her. "Just watch out for yourself while you're watching their backs, hear me?" The gentle concern was buried inside the gruff words.

"I will, Bruce." She smiled at Alfred. "Thank you, Alfred."

"Of course, Miss Lance. And forgive Master Bruce his antisocial nature. He's accustomed to being the sole carrier of the crusade," Alfred told her. She giggled at that, and hopped off the medical table, going over to Bruce. "So where is the sprout, if both of you are down here?"

"Dick is occupied with studies. His learning to date is not sufficient for public education, in certain subjects." Alfred smiled. "But he is a bright child, and will be on track to start the week after next, with the other students."

Dinah looked over at him, then down at Bruce who was studying the evidence of the Haly Circus murders again. She sighed softly. "Want me to try and pick up a trail again?"

"I can't rest until I solve that. And Dent is still missing."

That got a sharp nod. "Okay, so I'm the official Gotham addition to the League, and I start digging for where Dent went to ground, while you solve the murders at the circus."

Alfred looked over at the two as they divided up the known unsolved cases of Gotham, the cop's daughter and the rich orphan, and felt a deep satisfaction that one way or another, his ward was not likely to be alone again, ever.

* * *

Dick had promised he'd be perfectly safe at the circus, and the night performance they had gone to see had gone flawlessly. When Dick had pressed to go see his friends again, by day, before the performances of the night, Bruce had been reluctant to give in.

Alfred calmly called him during his afternoon business meeting with Lucius to explain the boy had vanished. So had the smallest of the motor bikes, one easily within the boy's ability to handle, if he had been of a mind to do so.

Bruce promptly grew 'bored' with Lucius, explaining that he had more 'entertaining pursuits' to enjoy.

Lucius might want to strangle him, but the boy came first. The businessman/playboy was soon lost in Gotham, shed to give way to the city's fearsome protector.

* * *

The sound of a gunshot poured cold fear over Batman, making him hurry. What even his well-trained ears had missed was the lash of a whip cutting air, but he saw the results, as Seli--Catwoman stood with feet braced, her whip still wound around the gunman's wrist. Batman processed the identity quick enough; the man with the gun was Tony Zucco.

What chilled him further was seeing his young ward there, kneeling next to the gunshot body of 'Pop' Haly.

"Batman," Catwoman called, focusing him. As she released her whip, Batman threw a device, bat shaped until it split in two, an effective bola that wound around Zucco's ankles. The thief vanished swiftly, letting the Bat secure the murderer, and to deal with the police. 

A solid punch from the angry, fearful vigilante made sure Zucco was out cold, and then Batman walked quickly over. He found a pulse, looked into the tear-filled eyes of the boy...and found a child with no fear of him.

"He shot Pop."

"You'll have to tell the police, son. I can't stay." He was quickly applying aid to the stricken man, making his injuries less threatening.

"I know." Without a moment's hesitation, the boy shifted, flinging a hug around Batman's waist. "Thank you." Somehow, without knowing truly why, Batman suspected the boy knew just who he was.

//I'll talk to him tonight.//

* * *

Jim really wished things like this didn't happen to children. He'd had his own son rescued not that long ago by the Batman, and now this orphan owed his life not only to the same vigilante, but supposedly Catwoman.

Life kept changing too quickly for a man battling corruption in his forces as well as a crime-riddled city. He thought a long moment about taking up that job offer in Peoria as he listened again to how Catwoman had kept the perp from shooting young Dick Grayson, how Batman had shown up and secured him before giving first aid to the old man.

A man who should recover to identify his attacker, to corroborate the boy's eyewitness testimony.

Jim just wished he had not given up smoking. Right now he really needed one of them, a strong drink, and a world that was more black and white than the one he lived in. He signaled an end to the interviews as Bruce Wayne showed up, at last, and took his young ward into a glad, emotionally laden hug. No scolding over the running away, Jim noted, just honest relief that he was safe.

That at least gave Jim some hope.

* * *

Bruce didn't discuss it with Alfred. In some ways, Alfred felt proud of him for it. This decision had to be made alone. Trusting Miss Lance with the secret had been a 'no-brainer' as Bruce put it; the girl had grown up with the identities of every hero who had stepped down rather than reveal them and put their families at risk, during the Red Scare.

Telling Dick meant trusting a child who would be in contact with other children, under the occasional pressure to out-'cool' the other kids.

Bruce waited for bedtime, and then laid a hand on Dick's shoulder.

"Come with me, Dick." 

"Yes, Bruce." The boy trustingly walked with Bruce into the study, and took a perch on the arm of a chair when Bruce told him to sit. 

"You could have gotten hurt or worse today, Dick, because you disobeyed me. But it made me think too, about how much a part of my family you are now." Bruce came and knelt in front of the wide-eyed boy on the chair. "Family should not have secrets. And I think you already might know what I need to tell you."

Dick blinked, and then shifted down into the seat of the chair. "I...think so."

"Come on then, Dick, and find out for sure...but only if you are willing to hold that secret very tight." Bruce rose, offering Dick his hand this time. The boy rose from the chair, took the hand, and walked with Bruce into a brand new future that started at a clock.

* * *

Dinah hissed softly as Alfred stitched the cut along her side.

"I do say, Miss Dinah, if you insist on drawing such attention to yourself, you really must learn to dodge more quickly," the butler informed her, making her smile. She held as still as she could as he made the next stitch, her eyes going out to where the boy was flying with the greatest of ease from bar to bar, proving his heritage in such beautiful ways.

"He's so good. I was afraid, after all I read and what Bruce told me, that he wouldn't want to fly again," she said, to focus off the first aid.

"Master Dick takes to the air as a fish to water. He could no more deny that part of who he is than Master Bruce can completely let go of his inheritance as head of Wayne Enterprises." Alfred spoke with fond pride for both of his boys.

"What do you think of Bruce's decision?" Dinah finally steeled herself to hear his answer.

"I would wish, Miss Dinah, that there were a more sane solution to the problems that drive all of you in your goals. But given that there is not, it is only wise to take the boy into full confidence, and give him the tools he needs to walk the path life had cast him on." Alfred tied off the last stitch, placed a bandage over it, then handed her the robe that was waiting. She accepted it, and stood to slide into its softness, sighing softly. "Master Bruce asks that you stay the night."

"I'll be glad to, Alfred. Thank you." She leaned in and kissed his cheek, an affection that he deigned to allow, having grown to understand that she was as outgoing as his own ward could be focused inward. Alfred remained to clean up the aftermath of her tangling with Scarface's gang, while she cast one last look Dick's way before going up to the room she used in the manor.

She found the bed was turned back, as well as both casual clothing and pajamas laid out. She had to smile; Alfred treated her like a niece that came to stay often. She opted for the casual clothing, careful to be sure the bandages stayed in place so she wouldn't bleed on the clothing. Once she had dressed, she made her way down to Bruce's study, knowing he wasn't home yet, and curled up in his big, comfy chair there with a book.

She'd been there for nearly an hour before Bruce made it in, joining her in the study with a quiet that felt peaceful instead of heavy. She looked at him, saw the make up had been wiped away from his most recent facial bruise, and sighed.

"Forget to duck again?" she teased him.

"No more than you forgot to dodge earlier," he pointed out in friendly retaliation.

She laughed softly at him. "Did you get Dick to go to bed?"

"No, but I coaxed him up to the kitchen, where Alfred is feeding him into sleepiness, I hope." Bruce stretched as he sat in his chair, watching her. "How goes your other thing?"

Dinah sighed. Ever since that alien attack, she had allowed herself to get mired into the world outside Gotham. Sometimes, it was nice, sharing the vision of a better world with others. But sometimes, she felt like none of them were a thing like her, like Bruce. Or, as she grudgingly admitted, even like Catwoman. The burglar was many things, but she was at least a semi-ally against the worst of Gotham's excesses.

"Well, I got hit on by the Lantern and turned him down. Then I thought maybe there were sparks with the Flash, but...he's got a girlfriend outside the life."

"Dangerous decision," Bruce said, meaning it. 

"I know. But...Aquaman seems to be finding his place more and more with us, even if he sometimes is still very naïve. And then there's the Martian." She had to smile softly. "He played a joke on us all, imitating Superman, even you, over the membership votes we were doing," she admitted.

"Did he do a good impression?" Bruce asked, liking that the alien among her new friends had a sense of humor, even if it was at his own expense.

"Better one of you than the Boy in Blue," she told him, an impish smile on her lips.

"Do you think they will work as well as the JSA did?" he asked her, more seriously.

"Give us time." Dinah shrugged. "Mom and her friends already tried to slap us down once, because we're so new to it, but how else are we going to learn?"

"True." Bruce frowned; he knew well and good how heavy her issues with that kind of high-handedness went. "Staying, right?"

"Mmm-hmm. You promised to teach me that technique."

"After Dick's in bed," he promised before rising. "Let's go see if we can get some food too."

"You know Alfie won't let us starve," Dinah teased, before setting her book down, and joining him on the way to the kitchen. It struck her just how at home she felt like this, and was thankful it had gone this way, rather than her once wistful thoughts of a relationship.

* * *

Black Canary drew in a breath //too short, won't reach// in a desperate attempt to knock Solomon Grundy off course, and found it unnecessary as a pair of arrows screamed past her, one hitting him in the face and exploding in a thick putty that blocked his sight, and the other whipping out just short of the mark in a net that entangled him, making him fall when the goop blocking his eyes made him snarl and rage and then trip.

//Them again.// She spared a short look to the slight rise in the road to see the jaunty little Robin Hood hats and the two bowslingers, one not much older than Dick, and the other...the other was probably Bruce's age. Or a shade more. Either way, she stiffened her resolve to cope with the cat-calls after her team finished mopping up the rest of this little Injustice Society.

"Pretty neat work!" the hyperactive redhead said, once Green Lantern had them all rounded up in a giant cage construct.

"Pretty slick all around," the elder archer said, shaking hands with Flash. He then looked over at Black Canary, all smooth smiles and suave manners behind that domino. "Sorry to cut in on your dance, but his kind of tango is a little rough on the girls."

"Good thing there aren't any girls out here then," she cut back, then flushed, because he had saved her hide a pretty solid bruising, probably. "Look..."

"That's okay, Birdie," Green Arrow said in an easy, laid-back voice. "Next time, you save my dolly, and we'll call it even."

She glared across the way, but he had a point. He wore the costumes same as she did, and it was what they did.

Even if he had turned them down to be on the team. Even if he did seem to stick more to the West Coast than here on the East.

"Deal."

"Or you know, you could go on a date with me," he couldn't help but add. Rather than let her respond to that, Martian Manhunter swiftly cut in and got Black Canary's attention.

"If you could go with us to drop off the suspects?" Martian Manhunter indicated to her. "You handle the authorities better than either of us." He stepped up on the flying platform that Green Lantern had made.

"Certainly." She settled for a scathing look at Green Arrow, then joined her teammates.

"She loves me," Green Arrow sighed afterward. That set Speedy to laughing wholeheartedly, who knew way better than that.

* * *

Two-Face walked down Second Street, four men following him, two on each side, doubling back when he reached the corner of Second Avenue. It was the perfect place to second-guess his plans, and consider how to pull off the brilliant two-pronged attack on Maroni and Falcone. He idly flipped the coin, feeling the scarring on the one side as it flicked on the tip of his finger with every catch and flip. He knew, idly, that there was the issue of the flying rodent and his pet cop, but hey, that was what secondary plans were for! 

Rumor had it that the Bat was a Duo these days, with a little bright distraction at his side. All the better, Two-Face thought. Two birds, two bats, whatever they might be, would net him more street credentials when he disposed of them in the path of his revenge.

Nothing, after all, was allowed to be between him and Justice.

* * *

Selina floated back into the arms of one of Gotham's wealthy, older, and oh-so-unattached men, smiling up at him. She was playing, and had a quite nice mouse. Nothing should have been distracting her. Her eyes kept finding _him_ , though, following the so-called Prince of Gotham as she played up the perfect kitten for her newest mark.

She was not happy with Bruce Wayne for avoiding her for nearly two full months after their last date. She was going to find a way to avenge her wounded feelings on that matter. Yes, he was busy with a company and a brand new orphan. She was concerned about the pretty little acrobat boy too, dammit! He had no right to put her off with excuse after thin excuse for all this time. And he certainly had no right to appear in public for the first soiree since then with that little reporting trollop, Vicki Vale.

Selina tore her eyes from that dark head bent down over the red tresses of the opportunistic tramp from the Gotham Gazette. How dare she move in on the man Selina had been intent on?!

With difficulty, she shoved all the thoughts of Bruce Wayne, of nails in pretty little journalist flesh, and other ideas other than profit clear from her thoughts. She had a meal ticket to fleece right in front of her, eating out of her hands.

* * *

Bruce had just finished telling Vicki his playboy opinion of the social scene when their host's butler approached.

"Mister Wayne, I was asked to inform you that Mister Pennyworth is bringing the car around. Something about the boy being ill?"

"Oh dear, but I wonder what he got into," Bruce said, in warm, caring tones that only played towards the entire media storm over his taking in the lonely, hurt little circus boy. Vicki was certain to write just the article he needed to cover his absence from the social scene these last two months, as he had filled her ear with adventures in solitary parenting since he had picked her up. He clamped down the smile that wanted to come with that thought. It had been anything but solitary, as Dinah had been all but living at the manor between her varied stints away from Gotham, putting her unique spin on Dick's training. And then there was Alfred, who completely and totally knew just how to handle one hyperactive pre-teen. "You'll excuse me, Vicki? I just can't let him be alone if he's sick..."

"Of course not, Bruce. Thank you for the date, but I'm certain I can manage from here." She gave him a warm smile, but he knew she was glad to be free of her obligations as his date, boring as he had proven to be.

Hastily, Bruce found his host, made his excuse, and was soon out and slipping into the back of the Rolls Royce. "What is it, Alfred?"

"The young master was studying and heard a tidbit on the police scanner that he says you must be made aware of, to fit into your map of recent events." Alfred was proud of how sturdy the boy was, and how well it had worked out since he began training. the newly dubbed 'Robin' had only gone out on patrol a few times, always with Batman, but he was learning the listening and watching side of the vigilante business quite quickly.

"If he says it is important, it must be," Bruce said, having full confidence in his junior partner.

"Indeed."

* * *

Dick, sitting in the bright costume he and Alfred had concocted, but without his domino, looked up, and then bounced out of the big chair at the Bat-Computer to just bounce in place as Bruce came downstairs. "Third arson. First was at the Deuce, a known meeting point for Falcone. Then we had the fire at Twin Delights, the strip club that is rumored to be owned by Maroni. And now... the Double Dip dance club, which is supposed to be neutral territory for both sides, went up in flames. Some smoke injuries, but everyone got out this time too."

"Eventually the arsonist won't be so careful," Bruce rumbled, voice dropping toward his 'work-voice' pitch as he got to his suit. "Same set-up?"

"We'll need to go look, but sounded like it," Dick told him, picking up his mask to seal it on with the adhesive.

"Good work, Robin," Batman congratulated, and the boy brightened radiantly under the praise. "Let's go see what we can learn about this person intent on setting the mafia at war within itself."

"You think Canary's right, and it's Dent?" Robin asked, before censoring his first question with empathy, and he moved fast to rest a hand on Batman's armor, just below the elbow.

Batman had gone tense, but he sighed softly and nodded. "It most likely is."

"Sorry, B." Dick slid into his side of the car, but his words were a gentle balm on the open wound of that broken trust.

"Maybe he's not completely lost, chum, and we can pull him around." Bruce certainly hoped so, that this was all just a misguided attempt to end the case they had all been working on for so long together.

* * *

Selina flipped open the paper, smiling to herself at the crime report of one notable Gotham bachelor being menaced for a priceless vase in his private art collection by the Notorious Catwoman. She took pride in her work, and besides, he'd bored her both in and out of bed. Past time to end the association, she thought. She turned one more page, and saw Bruce Wayne in a casual shot with that little florist friend of his. She wasn't even Somebody, just a working class woman from the older part of Gotham.

"Kitty, I think our Gotham Prince is foundering in his choice of women, don't you?" she asked the tabby sitting in her lap as she read the paper. "Maybe he needs rescued from Miss Plain Jane there." She'd be able to smuggle the latest piece out to her usual fence later that night, and get at least a partial payment on it, to finance her next attempt to get Bruce Wayne's notice. The tabby blinked up at her, then resumed kneading at Selina's thigh. "Yes, I know, you'll always love me, but darn it, that tom cat is one nice catch to go for, sweet kitty."

She returned to reading the society column, making plans in her head for ensnaring Bruce Wayne's charms strictly for herself. She wanted to get to know the pains inside him that she glimpsed in that night at the circus, and what had motivated his early, fast maneuvers to acquire Dick Grayson as his ward. Maybe, under the money, there was a kindred soul lurking. Not, she reminded her more mercenary impulses, that the money was all that bad to focus on from time to time.

* * *

 _Out of town for at least a month, Bruce. Thanks for all the lessons in how to handle bad mannered millionaires._ The note was signed with the flowing 'D' that was far more elegant than the lady who used it managed to be some days. He nodded his thanks to the clerk in the Bowery, and went back to the car, where Dick looked at him with disappointment that Dinah wasn't following.

"Sorry, chum, but it looks like she's taken up an offer on the West Coast," he said. 

"Permanently?" Dick asked, with solemn, big blue eyes.

"Doubt that, Dick. Gotham's in her blood as thick as it is in mine. You know that munitions owner we were researching on the side? He's her mark, this time, to make sure what we've seen of him is truly on the up and up," Bruce said, pausing to see if Dick followed quick enough.

"You mean he's... talented, like us?" Dick asked, running the pieces through his head, before lighting up. "The Robin Hood guy, with the kid in the funny hat?"

Bruce laughed, thinking that the other boy had probably made comments about Dick's own costume too. Maybe these kid heroes ought to meet up, and get to know each other, he considered. "The same. She's been dealing with one-liners from him for weeks now, and she wants to be certain that he's legitimate. She does worry over you boys being in this so young," Bruce said.

"Aww, I follow the rules," Dick answered, cheeks flushing a little. Bruce just drove them on over to the ice cream shoppe they had made their intended destination, and tried hard not to worry about suave businessmen and his 'little sister'.

* * *

"Master Bruce, just which of the fabulous contestants on 'I wish to be Mrs. Wayne' had you decided upon for the charity event at the Marquis?" Alfred asked, innocently enough. He knew how the women likely to be on the list were to be dressed, and Bruce supposed he wanted to be able to coordinate the tuxedo to the style of the socialite.

"Alfred, I thought I'd go stag, since Dinah's out of town. We know the Marquis fronts for the mafia, and he might well be on the arsonist's list. I don't need to be having to protect some young woman at the cost of others around us," Bruce replied, quite reasonably for the way he saw matters.

Alfred made a thoughtful noise, then one of grand discovery as he shuffled through the messages that had been left for Bruce, as if coming across something of grave importance. "Well, Master Bruce, if it is a matter of worrying so over the safety of your escort, perhaps this young lady would be a more appropriate choice than arriving alone and being courted by all the ladies present." He placed the message taken from Selina Kyle on the middle of the desk, and Bruce stared at it as if it were a venomous snake just waiting for his motion to trigger a strike.

"Alfred, I don't think continuing to see her is so wise."

"And I did not raise you to play it quite so cautiously," Alfred said in a firm tone. "She's helped you, Master Bruce. Why give her reason to turn fully into her criminal acts, by rebuffing the woman with neither excuse nor apology?"

"The thefts have not dropped off," Bruce said sternly.

"And yet, you yourself said her heart is in the right place, when it comes to the pain of others," Alfred pointed out unperturbed.

Bruce sighed; he was not going to win this argument. He picked up the note with the telephone number, and reached for the phone at his desk corner. Alfred, satisfied, walked out just slowly enough to hear the 'is Miss Kyle there' out of his ward's mouth.

* * *

Robin was to be ready for surveillance only, perched atop a nearby building. Bruce had stashed an emergency kit near enough to acquire easily should their suspicions bear out. Alfred, more discreetly, would be near to hand so that discreet exits could happen, just in case.

Bruce was satisfied with all their preparations, even as he arrived to pick up Selina, mind running through various scenarios, if this fourth target proved to be the point of escalation to include harming innocent lives. He stood outside the door, having rung the bell, and waited, flicking off potential courses of action in case they were right, that it was Harvey, and how he would --

\-- the door opened to show Selina in a curve hugging, thigh-slit emerald green dress, with matching opera length gloves, and her black hair perfectly coiled and coiffed on her head with a few purposefully straying tendrils to invite attention to the bareness of her neck and shoulders. Bruce was taken full force by the picture of beauty and sensuality, wondering if Alfred had spoken with her, because his accessories were the perfect complement to the green Selina wore. Her heels, he noted absently, would also make her far closer to his own height than usual, and accented the athletic grace of her shapely legs.

"Selina," he said, in a tone of awe and appreciation.

"Why, Bruce, you are just nearly on time," she complimented. "Let me get my wrap," she added, moving back in to fetch the stole, allowing Bruce to count at least three small cats darting into hiding places in the visible part of her apartment.

"I didn't want to keep you waiting, when I have been so hard to get a hold of in recent weeks."

"Months, even," was her rejoinder, before she had the stole on, and was taking his arm to go to his car.

* * *

Harvey looked at the kid on his payroll, name of Lynns, who liked to call himself Firefly. "Fifty-fifty chance, kid." He took the coin and flipped it, watching it glitter through the air and then land in his outstretched palm.

The disfigured side showed up, and the uglier half of Harvey's face twisted into a rictus of a smile. "Well, boy, it sure looks like we're going to double our fun tonight!"

The self-styled Firefly started laughing, glad he'd fallen in with someone who had big plans and was on his way up.

In the end, Lynns was certain he'd light a pyre under the city, and then the whole world would know who he was and never forget it.

* * *

Selina felt the first shudder through the Marquis's foundation, and registered the distant sound with the recognition of a slums' child. //Firebombs.// Memories of buildings purposefully being destroyed, for either insurance or to clear out eyesores rolled through her, making her hand clutch convulsively on Bruce's arm. They had to get out! Nothing was quite as frightening to an inner-city survivor as the lightning fast fires sweeping through buildings that were never as empty as they were supposed to be.

"Bruce..."

The infuriating man didn't have the sense to be aware of his surroundings! He looked down at her, his eyes thoroughly puzzled. "I wonder what that was? The boilers in the basement?"

"Bruce, I think it is far worse than that!" she snapped. "We need to go!"

A second shudder and far more noticeable noise came next, and most of the milling guests took note. In that hush of surprise, the third noise, clearly an explosion, heralded complete panic, and thoughts of escape with Bruce Wayne were turned hastily into just getting free of the milling, dangerous people turned into a mob. No one ever panicked quite the way rich people did, Selina thought, feeling them jostle her away from her escort, despite a half-heard protest of 'Selina!'.

Damn, but he couldn't even keep up with her? Selina erased the sigh and wistful regret that he wasn't more capable, using a few well-placed steps of her heels in other people's feet, and discreet use of her nails to try and get closer to the exits.

"The doors won't open!!!!" The cry went up and increased the panic as the smoke started to come through the vents. Selina refused to panic; the Marquis's grand ballroom was only 3 floors up, and surely the windows weren't safety-glassed. She could still get out, escape the throng. Her eyes darted around again fro Bruce, but despite his height, she didn't catch a single glimpse of him. 

"We're going to die!" one woman's hysterical voice floated up, and Selina had to quash her thought of the idea none of the ones present would really be all that missed by humanity. Bruce was in here, and he was a darling, if a bit daft. Her eyes scanned and she knew she had to act fast, or the crowd hysteria would soon have them swarming the windows rather than burn alive from the heat coming up the stairwells and under their feet. 

"Such pessimists!" came a cheerful voice near one stairwell exit, showing a bright red and green vision for half a moment before the boy hero sensibly disappeared from the wave of humanity headed his way. Selina's eyes narrowed, because despite that the doorway was a choke point, it did represent one way out. She glanced back, wondering if she could make a door open with her skills, or if they were actually blocked, and thought she saw a shadowy figure hidden by smoke moving to the other door that was open, one known to only go deeper into the building, not out.

Curiosity had its appeal, Selina knew all too well, but her fur was feeling singed, and getting free meant more than finding what lay that way until her mind hit on the idea that it was whomever had set the blaze. She hesitated, her mind's eye replaying that motion down the hall, sure and steady, as if the person knew the chaos that had been set free was to be expected. That got her sense of vengeance aroused, and she moved to follow, thinking there would certainly be an escape if the perpetrator was going that direction.

* * *

The path of the mysterious shadow, as well as Selina's in her pursuit, involved an old service elevator. Admonitions to never use on in the midst of a fire sprang to mind, but when Selina looked, there was no car, merely a service ladder and ledges. Apparently, this was rigged for the purported mafia to use as needed for fast getaways, Selina thought to herself, while kicking her feet to the outside of the rails and sliding down swiftly.

She wanted a piece of the son of a gun who had done this, wanted it bad enough to not mind how raggedly unprepared the dress she was wearing was for this kind of action. The perp wasn't going to get to finger her when she was done with him, though. Letting psychopathic killers live was not high on Selina's list of things to do. She paused long enough to make the heels into flats, ignoring the slight unevenness by staying on the balls of her feet anyway, and then set off in pursuit of the shadowy man she had followed down into these tunnels.

A venting of steam, noxious and barely escaped by a quick reaction to the first sound of it complicated matters. It obscured her sight and hearing, just before a juncture. Had the man gone on, or turned? She turned, thinking she heard something down the junction tunnel.

Two gun shots, a brief glimpse of something not quite human lurking in a disfigured face, and Selina realized she'd found him. Unfortunately, she wasn't in any shape to do anything as she crumpled around the wounds.

"Selina!"

She let consciousness fade, as much by necessity as choice, on that hallucination of Bruce's concerned voice calling to her.

* * *

The first thing she noticed was the coolness. She could smell dampness, but felt the artificial sense of a dehumidified air around her. She also smelled...antiseptic and an earthy tone she could not place.

"Don't move."

That was the rough, graveled voice of her nighttime menace, sometimes ally, and stuff of fantasies innumerable. Selina opened her eyes slowly, and took in the cowled man, her attention arrested by the look of days-old growth where his face showed, and the deep shadows on his normally clear blue eyes. This was a man on the verge of exhaustion, Selina realized.

She also realized in the next breath that she was not masked, nor even costumed. Her dress was gone, replaced with pajamas that had a buttoning top, which made sense given the pain in her midriff and the memories that accompanied it.

But how had she gotten here, a place that she now saw was a huge cave system, in a bed, wearing clean...expensive...pajamas with an exhausted Batman watching over her? And why was he the one watching over her? She should, in a best case scenario, be in a hospital, and worst case, had the police pulled any evidence of who she really was, in a jail's infirmary.

"Well isn't this just the cat's meow? Me in what must be your bed, dressed for more sedentary night time exercises than usual?" she purred brazenly, and found it made him smile, just slightly, at the corners of his mouth, lightening his eyes.

"You're lucky I was en route," he made himself say.

"Did that freak get away?" she asked, somewhat dreading the answer.

"You were bleeding." His lines went taut again with unknowable emotions. It made Selina reach for his gloved hand, looking up at him, still puzzled by why he'd brought her here, and not a hospital. He obviously knew she was Catwoman; the pajamas had whiskered feline faces on them, and she knew it was no accident.

"Guess the creep gets to breathe a few more days," she said sullenly.

"He'll be caught. And brought to both justice and help for his affliction," Batman told her, making her chuckle at his naivete. 

"Oh and I bet you still believe in Sandy Claws." Selina patted at his hand and closed her eyes, not wanting to see what expression he wore when he answered her next question. "Why did you bring me here, instead of leaving me at a hospital? That's your usual method. You could even have dropped me off at a veterinary, if you wanted to be funny."

There was a long pause, and the hand slid free of hers, with enough motion in the chair she half-expected he was gone from it, if she would open her eyes.

Then he answered, his voice pitched low with conviction. "I believe in you."

Only silence followed for a long moment, as Selina tried to decide how to respond to that. When he shifted, this time with a clear sign of rising, she opened her eyes and reached for him, a little too hastily, and she hissed at the pull of her wound. He was instantly closer, helping adjust her, holding her hand, and close enough that Selina failed to even think before she acted.

The kiss, delivered without much conscious volition, was met on nearly as instinctive a level. Their lips barely parted, and she tasted the coffee he had no doubt been using to keep himself going //for me//. She realized quickly that he was not contesting the ownership or mastery of the kiss, letting her guide it while participating as her partner, an equal.

She'd only been kissed by one other man quite this way, sure of himself, but equally sure of her self-possession. That comparison flashed through her mind, along with that perception of her name being called, and where she was now...

"Bruce?!" The shock of reality, knowing she was right, knowing that pair of blue eyes in different settings, lashed through her with lightning emotions. She felt exultation at figuring it out, hurt that she'd been captivated by the same man, relief for the same, and then a resounding anger that she'd been so close, and Bruce Wayne had courted her while Batman had hounded her. Her fingers itched with the urge to reach up and claw at that days' old growth on his cheeks... but its very presence belayed so much of her anger.

In view of her accusation, the man reached up, pushing back the heavy cowl, revealing a sleep-worn Bruce Wayne looking at her with something she recognized as akin to fear in his eyes. Not fear of her, or even fear for himself and his secrets, but a fear of whatever nebulous territory they had just moved into.

"I still walk by myself," she told him, before moving slowly to reach for him. They had so much they needed to talk about, but right now, she just wanted to wipe the fear from the eyes of the man she had been intrigued by in two guises. That he only hesitated a moment spoke volumes to them both, before he was kissing her again. She shifted, tugging at his neck, making it clear she wanted closer comfort, and for once dear Bruce didn't miss a beat of her meaning. The cape had already been gone; now the gloves disappeared, and the boots, before he laid along her side on the small bed.

It suited her completely that the first time she ever shared his bed was so much a blend of the two men she had known, with him partially costumed, and them inside a cave with bats twittering and rustling above them. After all, all the differences between this and whatever passed for normal were the catnip she craved.

* * *

"So what do we do now?" Selina asked, coming over to where the Dynamic Duo were both analyzing what had gone wrong at the Marquis, and trying to discern where the next fire would break out.

Robin gave her a sidelong glance, then waited for Batman to answer the question.

"You will heal." Batman raised a hand to still her protests. "I am positive his lair is down in the sewers currently. You don't need to get a case of septic toxemia in those wounds."

"Be all logical and make me lick my wounds in silence, then," Selina pouted.

"We'll set you up on communication, when we go back out," Batman continued. "Robin especially needs to have someone able to communicate and guide him."

"Hey!" Robin protested, but he knew it was true; he was still learning.

"Black Canary has been monitoring that aspect of his training, but she's out of town for the duration." Batman did not actually look at the healing woman, but his senses stayed on Selina to find out where things stood between her and the other vigilante of their city.

Selina had saved Black Canary's life, a debt not yet paid back. And evidently Black Canary had a place in Batman's life that was not the one she, in either guise, occupied. Selina's inherently catty nature did not particularly care to share, but sometimes, one had to push that aside. And, when Selina thought about it hard enough, it was somewhat nice to understand that there were other people she could lean on.

"I can manage communications. It's not like I had concrete plans for my evenings yet," Selina told him neutrally.

"After this case is over, then... we'll discuss further cooperation?" Batman suggested to her.

Selina just made a small noise, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with the idea of the future.

Robin turned away from them both, leaving her curious if the boy...that precious little acrobat...was frowning or smirking beneath his domino.

* * *

Selina sat in the big chair in front of the computer, listening as things went far askew from the plan, the hair on the back of her neck erect with premonition. She should have... A sound behind her made her turn, and there was Alfred with a box in his hands.

"Miss Kyle, I could not help but overhear, and though your wounds are still healing, perhaps you can manage the motorcycle?"

Selina bounced to her feet and over to the faithful butler/caretaker with a hug for him, and kiss on his cheek. "I won't get my paws the least bit wet!" she promised, taking the box that held a costume for her. She should have known Bruce would be thoughtful that way, or Alfred had sparked his own initiative, one or the other.

* * *

"...the bomb or the boy, Batsy?!" came the words from the demented former attorney.

A roar of a motorcycle cut off any further words, though, and preceded the harsh crack of a familiar whip.

"Get the bomb, Bat-stuff, and I'll save the birdie," came a strong, purring voice that no one in the room had expected. Even Batman had put the comm silence down to being jammed; not the idea that Selina, with her wounds, would join the party.

The disfigured man on the dais flipped his coin one more time, catching it irritably, and then looking at his goons all around the room. Motion and violence exploded on the heels of his 'kill'em all' order, but Batman put his faith in Catwoman, and went for the bomb that was rigged to destroy Twice Owned, the major fence-shop for Maroni and Falcone both. The fact the pawn shop sat directly over a gas main had not deterred the psychopath in charge of the mayhem, causing Batman grief that he had failed in every effort to engage Harvey to thinking beyond revenge.

Catwoman maneuvered the bike, not as skillfully as Canary, perhaps, but effectively enough, to get in position to recover Robin. The henchmen between her and her target suffered broken limbs from being struck by the bike, or nasty cuts and friction-burns from her whip jerking them or their weapons away. Nothing was going to cause that child a minute more pain, Catwoman vowed, seeing the ramp she needed to get over to the platform Robin was tied up on, steadily sinking in noxious, hazardous waste.

The platform sank slightly more with the weight of the bike, but Catwoman quickly dropped off, scooping up Robin onto her shoulder. "Okay, little bird, get ready for a wild swinging time!" she told the groggy, half-conscious boy, before using her whip to begin a pendulum swing to safer ground. The bike was lost on the platform, but she and the boy made it, despite tearing her stitches and the ache in her shoulder. "Need to lay off the kitty treats," she told herself, getting a bare chuckle from her rescuee.

"No more cookies for either of us," he managed to say, helping her get his bonds off so they could escape, and let Batman work with less distraction.

"Off to that crazy car, kid, and he'd better be right behind us," she said, once they had the ropes off and he was on his feet, albeit unsteadily.

"Right."

* * *

Alfred did the honors of restitching Selina's wounds, once he was certain Robin's skull needed no more than a compress. There was a doctor in with Bruce, but Selina had been asked not to pry, and for once, she reined in her curiosity.

"Thank you, Miss Kyle, for your efforts tonight," Alfred said in a low voice. He then met her eyes, and Selina cringed, expecting the man who had raised Bruce to protest her continued presence. "And for every night you grace his path. I do hope it continues more amiably than some nights have been?"

Selina considered, then smiled softly. "Perhaps."

It made Alfred smile as well, and he finished, comfortable that the future was certain to be intriguing at the very least.


	2. Changing Flight Paths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinah's made a decision, or halfway, and wants to talk to Bruce about it.

"Hurry back?" Oliver entreated, his hands resting on her waist. For answer, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him solidly.

"I'll try to, Ollie," she promised him when she settled back on her own feet. She didn't mind when he dipped down and took one more kiss before they were calling her flight number to board.

* * *

"You're distracted."

Dinah turned to see Batman on the roof with her. "I still got the mooks down."

"But not as quickly as you could have." He came close and lifted his cape around her against the damp chill of the fall night. "What's wrong?"

Dinah bit her lip, then looked at the city. "Manor? Robin went home at least an hour ago and should be in bed by now."

"Yes." He was worried, but he gave her a one-armed hug and then took off to acquire the car while she went to her bike. They would meet up… and he'd get the answers he was afraid of hearing.

* * *

Bruce settled on the love seat, and Dinah leaned in against him, both of them with warmed cider to shake the chill. "Now, you need to talk?" he rumbled. He was glad that Selina was currently pursuing her own goals; the ladies tolerated each other but hadn't gotten that chummy yet.

"So, I've made four trips out west to help Green Arrow," Dinah said. "And… it's gotten really complicated, really fast, Bruce."

Bruce felt his chest tighten. She was his friend, his first friend to share the Mission with. "You're falling for the bad playboy?" he managed to make himself say, forcing a light note.

Dinah sighed. "I think so, and I really want to believe what he says about falling for me, but… Bruce, I'm scared. Scared it's not real, and I'll just get hurt. Scared it is, and if I don't jump for it, it won't ever happen again, and I'll only have myself to blame." 

Bruce had to squeeze her carefully tight at that. "Any man that could win your heart would be a fool to do anything but treasure it, Dinah." He shook his head, half-smiling. After all, he and Selina had a … well, he'd call it an understanding. "Do you want me to help you draw up a better contract for your manager here? Give you more freedom to follow your heart west?" //leave me…//

She wiggled to where she could hug him tighter. "I'd like that; I don't want to lose my home or the Bowery, but… he's invited me to stay out there. Helped me look for a good place to live."

Bruce swallowed past the lump in his throat. "We'll get everything taken care of… but you know, you will always have a place in Gotham."

She kissed his cheek lightly. "I know. It's home. It's in our blood, always." She then sighed softly. "Maybe Dick can go with me sometimes? That boy Speedy… I never see him with anyone his own age, and I swear he lives in his gear."

Bruce snorted. "Like Dick's much better."

"Exactly! Maybe there needs to be a junior Justice League Club, or something, for the sidekicks you macho men keep dragging into things," she teased him.

"Hey, they say Gateway City has a pair of girls now!"

"Oh I'd love to hear you call that woman a girl to her face!" Dinah crowed, before working on her cider.


End file.
